


Bun in the Oven

by Anzieizna



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anyways, BUT it's more implied than spoken about? like it's not a major plot point or even said, FTM Stiles, M/M, Mpreg, Scott shows up for like one second so eh, Trans Stiles, as in, but it's what i intended and how i wrote it to be, but sensible mpreg, ok so this is like, so?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-18
Updated: 2020-02-18
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22790455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anzieizna/pseuds/Anzieizna
Summary: He was pregnant. He was having a baby. A mix of him and Derek, with Stiles’ scruffy hair and endless moles and Derek’s caterpillar eyebrows and adorable bunny teeth. How could he not be excited about this?! This kid was going to be the cutest thing ever produced.Scott didn’t really like the idea Stiles had for telling Derek. He was a romantic at heart, of course, and wanted something more dramatic. More spontaneous. He regaled the way Allison had told him of her first pregnancy, saying Stiles should take Derek out to dinner, or to a river at sunset, or write it in the sky with rainbow clouds.He’d gotten a dreamy look in his eyes. “It’d be beautiful,” he sighed.Stiles thought about it for about 0.1 seconds before he said, “yeah okay, but alsopuns.”---OR:---Stiles decides to give Derek a taste of his own punny-medicine, only to realise that Derek is as problematic as he always is.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 33
Kudos: 569





	Bun in the Oven

**Author's Note:**

> So this absolutely sucks and I hate it but decided to upload it anyway because... well, it was there, you know? No point in wasting written work.
> 
> Based off this video (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2aWyXWSaVZ8) that I saw on a Snapchat article. Thought it was hella funny and decided to do my own spin on it.

As soon as Stiles thought of it, he called himself a genius.

It was just – amazing. Perfect. It was a _damn_ good idea, if he said so himself.

Finally, a good way to get Derek back for all those lame puns he always told. Ever since becoming a super famous writer – whatever Derek, you’ve only won like _three_ awards, no big deal (except it was a big deal and super hot, hnng) – Derek always snuck in those stupid puns into casual conversation. Seriously. _All_ the time. It was cute at first, sure. Even if they were really bad. But one time, Stiles heard Derek say one in his _sleep_.

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night to “orange you glad to see me?” echoing through the room.

Exactly. And that definitely wasn’t the last time.

So the minute Stiles found out he was pregnant, he _knew_ he had to use it to get back at Derek somehow.

He’d called Scott first, of course. No matter how much he loved his husband, Scott was his _bro_ and would always be the first person he’d go to whenever he freaked out. And freak out he did – they hadn’t been planning it, just forgot a condom one night and decided that they could be careful enough. Apparently they weren’t. It was scary, to think that there’d be a whole _human_ growing inside him who’d then be depending on him to eat and drink and clothe and not die. It was scary. But, to be quite honest, Stiles didn’t care.

He was _pregnant_. He was having a _baby_. A mix of him and Derek, with Stiles’ scruffy hair and endless moles and Derek’s caterpillar eyebrows and adorable bunny teeth. How could he _not_ be excited about this?! This kid was going to be the cutest thing ever produced.

Scott didn’t really like the idea Stiles had for telling Derek. He was a romantic at heart, of course, and wanted something more dramatic. More spontaneous. He regaled the way Allison had told him of her first pregnancy, saying Stiles should take Derek out to dinner, or to a river at sunset, or write it in the sky with rainbow clouds.

He’d gotten a dreamy look in his eyes. “It’d be beautiful,” he sighed.

Stiles thought about it for about 0.1 seconds before he said, “yeah okay, but also _puns_.”

Stiles had been planning it for some time – it had to be _perfect_ – but the day finally arrived after a long, hard day of work. Derek came home with a groan, that little crease in his forehead that said he was beyond exhausted, and the fondest smile Stiles had ever seen.

“Hey babe,” Derek said, shrugging off his coat. “How was work?”

Stiles didn’t answer. Instead, he threw his arms around his husband and kissed him deep, not letting him run away for at least however long it took for someone to run out of air. When they surfaced, Stiles could feel his face tingle from Derek’s beard, and the man himself looked confused but pleased as he grinned at Stiles.

“Hey, what’s with you?” Derek wrapped an arm around Stiles’ waist, pulling him close. “Why’re you all smiley?”

“Smiling? I’m not smiling,” said Stiles, who was definitely smiling. “Can’t a man smile in his own house?”

“So, work?”

“Work was good,” Stiles nodded, watching Derek untie his shoes and put them aside. The thought of having a _third_ pair of shoes by the door, small and adorable and petite, made him squeal, and he had to cover the noise up with a cough. “It was good, nothing really happened today.”

Derek nodded, kissing his cheek before stepping further into the house. “You made dinner yet?”

“Was just about to, mind helping?”

“Sure.” Derek stood up from where he’d been about to turn on the TV, only to be stopped by Stiles’ wildly flailing hands.

The man jumped in front of him, trying to remember if he’d put the pregnancy test in the bathroom yet, or if he’d cleaned the oven enough, or if his phone had enough battery to film the whole, thing, and, and—

“Woah,” Stiles laughed nervously. “Not _now_ big guy, Jeez!”

The wolf blinked at him. “Um. Okay?”

Stiles patted himself down, acting as casual as he could. “Just. You know. Can’t let you go in the kitchen too soon.”

Derek narrowed his eyes. “Why not?”

Stiles opened his mouth for a moment, but nothing came out. He hummed, crossing his arms as if to intimidate. Judging by Derek’s face, the action wasn’t scary in the slightest, but Stiles just rose a brow. “Hey, I’m letting you _off_ helping. Why are you questioning this?”

Derek’s gaze lingered for a moment, dragging up and down Stiles’ body. When it rested on his belly, Stiles briefly thought ‘ _noooo, he knows, my sweet revenge!’_ before his husband shrugged and looked away. “Alright. Just let me know when I’m needed.”

Stiles nodded and all but ran back into the kitchen. He looked around – the bun was in place, the oven light was on, and his phone was in his hand, already set on record. He took in a deep breath, taking a moment to contain his excitement because _aaah! baby!_ before yelling, “babe, can you come in here for a second?”

There was shuffling, and then Derek turned the corner. “What’s up?” He eyed the phone in Stiles’ hand curiously but said nothing.

“I think there’s something in the oven.” When Derek didn’t move, he added, “I don’t know what it is.”

The wolf glanced into the oven, then nodded easily. “Buns.”

Stiles blinked, then grinned. Oh wow, this was going to be a lot easier than he expected. “That’s what they are, yeah.” Derek was stilling looking at him blankly, though, so he pointed to the oven and said, “well, take them out then!”

Derek heaved a sigh, as if doing Stiles some great favour, and leaned down to take the buns out. He tossed them around in his hand for a moment, shrugging as he read the packaging. “Good till 8/8.”

Stiles waited.

And waited.

And _waited_.

Still, Derek just stood there with a clueless look on his face, eyebrows growing more grumpy as he stared at the camera some more.

Nothing? Stiles was getting _nothing_? Really – Derek of all people wasn’t getting this? Stiles shook his head. “Wha – okay. They were what again?”

“Good till 8/8.”

“No, that’s not…” Stiles sighed, pinching his nose. Jesus Christ, why did he marry this man again? “What did you call them? Before?”

Derek looked at the things like they were a complete mystery to him. “Buns?”

“Right.” Stiles nodded. “And where were they?”

“In the oven.”

Stiles grinned, nodding largely. “So… say it together now.”

“Buns in the oven?”

“Yeah!”

Derek blinked again. Then he scowled. “Are you and Laura pranking me again?”

“No, this isn’t a prank. And Laura has nothing to do with this. This is all…. me. Well, and you, too. You were pretty important, I’d say.”

His husband looked at him warily. “I have something to do with hamburger buns?”

“Absolutely.”

“Stiles, are you feeling okay?”

“I’m feeling fine! Great, actually, I feel _great_ because of a _bun_ in the _oven_.”

Derek sighed. “Is this another weird kink thing?”

“Hey!” Stiles protested, feeling his cheeks flare up. “Look, just – what’s in your hand?”

“Hamburger buns.”

“Forget the burger part. What’s in your hand?”

You’d think Stiles was a crazy person, with the way Derek was looking at him. As if he was a babbling nonsense or yelling about how the world was gonna end by tomorrow. Not talking about their freaking baby, it was so _obvious_ , how was Derek not getting it?

But no matter how many wide eyed looks he sent him, the man was simply not understanding. _Wow_ , Stiles thought, _I can’t believe I thought he’d already known for a second._

“Come on Derek, _think_! I know that’s hard for you but try.”

Derek rolled his eyes, apparently deciding to humour him. “Rolls.”

“No.”

“Bread.”

“No! Buns, they’re buns, Derek!”

“Why do you need me here again?”

Stiles huffed. If he weren’t married to the man, he’d have thrown his phone at Derek’s head. “They’re buns, right? And you found them in the oven. So they’re buns in the oven.”

Derek, like the asshole he was, nodded his head slowly and exaggeratedly. “Yes,” he said, tone as if he was speaking to a toddler. “We’ve established this, Stiles.”

“So that doesn’t make you think of anything, or… remind you of an expression?”

Derek shook his head.

“Nothing? At all?”

“Nope.”

“What does the expression ‘bun in the oven’ _mean_ , Derek?”

The man sighed. “Stiles, how am I supposed to know? I’ve never heard of it.”

Stiles let out a breath. A quiet one, but a heavy one – because God _damn_ it. There went his punny revenge. He sent Derek as sceptical look. “Bun in the oven? You’ve never heard of that? Really?” When Derek just sent him another glare, he tried to change tactics. “Okay. Right, so, if I said that I had a bun in the oven, what would that make you think of?”

The man’s face scrunched, like he was trying to solve the world’s greatest riddle. “Um. That you’re hungry?”

Stiles’ eyes almost bugged out of his head. Without warning, he grabbed the man’s hand and dragged him, ignoring any and all protests as they traversed across the apartment.

When they stopped in front of the closed bathroom door, Derek’s brows scrunched. “What’s going on? If you wanted shower sex, Stiles, all you had to do was ask, I don’t get why—”

“Derek, I love you, but you gotta shut up.” Stiles sighed, looking to the sky as if for help before glaring at his husband. “You’re gonna go in there and you’re gonna _get_ this, Derek, otherwise I’m getting Scott to kick your ass.”

The wolf frowned. “What have _I_ done?”

“Just go into the bathroom, okay?”

Derek rolled his eyes but followed his order, pushing the door open and glancing inside. Stiles could tell when he saw the pregnancy test, because his eyes had been flickering over the walls before suddenly stopping and widening.

He froze, body going tense, and for a moment Stiles felt a heavy lump growing in his stomach. Uh-oh, had he fucked up? He’d been so sure that Derek would be happy. I mean, they’d even talked about kids and _sure_ they’d planned on using a surrogate but this was the perfect opportunity, no? It’d be hard, no doubt, but Stiles thought Derek would be _happy_ with this, happy to have a family, not still and tense and—

Then, without warning, great big arms wrapped around Stiles’ waist and lifted him.

He squealed in a totally manly way, hovering cluelessly for a moment before grabbing onto Derek’s shoulder for balance.

Derek, who had squished his face into Stiles’ belly. Even without seeing him, Stiles could feel him smiling against his skin. No, grinning. He could just _tell_ , and all of the fear that’d overtaken his body a second ago washed away without any effort.

“Stiles,” Derek sighed, his voice light and airy, and as soon as he brought Stiles down he pulled him into an encompassing kiss. When they resurfaced, they were both gasping for breaths, but Stiles did nothing but rest their foreheads against each other. “God, Stiles, this is amazing!”

“Fucking _finally_!” Stiles laughed, scrunching his nose as he felt something dry on his cheeks. Stiles was totally not crying, and if he was, it was absolutely the hormones’ fault. “Who doesn’t know what bun in the oven means?!”

“ _That’s_ what you were trying to tell me?” The man laughed, burying his nose in Stiles’ neck. “You’re ridiculous, you know that?”

Stiles grinned a watery smile, about to reply when he jumped. “Oh, shoot! My phone, I left it in the kitchen.”

He dragged Derek back, not letting go of his hand once. He fumbled with the phone for a minute, cursing his shaky hands, before turning back and grinning. He was more than pleased to see Derek had taken the pregnancy test with him, looking at the thing like it was their baby itself, love and warmth pouring from his eyes and _God_ , Stiles needed to start recording before he dropped his phone altogether.

“Okay, Derek, what’s in your hand _now_?”

The wolf laughed, eyeing the phone for a moment before looking behind it, at Stiles. He was smiling softly, seemingly not bothered by the not-tears running down Stiles’ cheek. “It’s a pregnancy test.”

“Yeah?”

“A _positive_ pregnancy test.”

Stiles smiled. Yeah, okay, he was crying now. He took a breath, opening eyes he didn’t even know he’d close before finally saying, “Derek, I’m pregnant.”

Derek’s eyes lit up. “Hi, Pregnant—”

“ _Oh my God, no!”_

“—I’m Dad!”

_“Goddamnit, Derek!”_

**Author's Note:**

> Please don't hesitate to comment, kudos, or point out any mistake! A comment a day keeps the author here to stay -- as they (nobody) say.


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